


Once and Ever Again

by karrenia_rune



Category: Dresden Files (TV)
Genre: Dresden Files - Freeform, Gen, Morgan - Freeform, Yuletide, back story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:59:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at a possible back story for the character of Donald Morgan and his first meeting with Ancient Mai.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once and Ever Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ryuutchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuutchi/gifts).



Disclaimer: The Dresden Files (tv) is based on the novels of Jim Butcher and is the creation of the SyFy Channel and its respective producers and directors etc; as are the characters who appear here or are mentioned; they are not mine and are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story. Written for Ryuutchi's unfilled request from the 2009  
Rare Fandom Challenge.

 

It was good to get out from under the strict disciplinarian but fond supervision of his mentor for at least one night, Morgan thought as crossed over the wide boulevard of one the largest and rowdiest quarters in New Orleans' French Quarter.

The annual celebration of Mardi Gras was in full swing and the activity, the noise of the crowd, all of which along with the mingled scents of perfume, flowers, spices and other scents, some pleasant, some less so eddied all around and through him as if each and every one of them had a life of its own.

He could not have said why he felt that so strongly; it more of an impression than a concrete idea he had formulated; he simply felt it that strongly. He paused for a moment to make way for a large, crowded float to pass down the street heading west and reflexively caught a handful of green, gold, and yellow strand of beads those aboard thud the float threw beads, baubles and candy in the general direction of the swelling crowd  
and other passersby.

Morgan chanced to look up at the those aboard the float, six men, three women, the one in the middle, the one who had thrown the strand of beads to him, briefly caught his eye and held onto the contact for the few brief seconds for the float to pass where he stood on the street corner of the intersection between 54th Street and Le Marquis Street.

The contact had been fleeting at best, for those few brief heartbeats, Morgan found himself caught by the intent, focused, black-eyed stare, although the remainder of the woman's face had been hidden by a stylized mask of a blue crane.

A convulsive shudder ran through Morgan's frame, and as his maternal grandmother would have said when it had become fully realized that the spark for magical talent ran through him as fully as the blood ran through his veins.

In the back of his mind he was reminded of his grandmother's old sayings, feeling at it as someone with a sore tooth would probe at it with their tongue. Morgan thought, "It was like someone just took a bite out of my very being.' As they did so in order to mark who I was, as it were a means to identify so they could recall to my mind at some later date.'

The woman in the stylized mask who had thrown the beads to him was in profile, and the contact had been fleeting at best. Morgan shook his head and reached up to brush a strand of black hair that had fallen down over his own eyes while the sensation of being marked, being studied and memorized passed along with the gesture.

Morgan briefly examined the beads, already prepared to dismiss them as nothing more than cheap baubles when, at the very instant the light of passing street car that had recently made a local playwright by the name of Tennessee Williams famous, played over the strands of the beads. "Perhaps I am making too much out of the tiniest signs. On the other hand, I have been taught not to make too much out of coincidence."

**  
Later, while sitting down at the outside patio at one of his favorite eating establishments, and having finished a very satisfying meal of lobster tail and garden salad, Morgan was just sipping at his glass of white wine when the same sensation of being watched washed over him again, only this time not as intent; it was much more subdued this time. As if whoever or whatever the hidden watcher wanted this time, was done so out of mere curiosity.

A woman approached his table, she was slight and of Asian descent, but there was much in both her demeanor and her stance that indicated that much went on beneath the surface that was not immediately apparent on the surface.

"Donald Morgan, I presume," she said and coming from her and that precise perhaps overly emphasis on his surname indicated that she not so much as verifying his identity but merely stating in a matter-of-fact manner.

"You have the advantage of me, my dear," replied Morgan.

"I am Mai," she replied.

Morgan nodded. "Thank you."

"You may wish to save your thanks after you have heard me out."

Morgan nodded. "Indeed. Please, continue."

"Indeed," she replied as she sat down across from him at his table, waving away the waiter who came to inquire if either of them required anything further. "Do you still have the strand of beads I tossed to you earlier?"

Startled momentarily by the question Morgan replied, "I set it aside."

She shrugged. "I does not matter. It was merely a means by which to get your attention. I have been watching you, studying you really."

"May I ask why?"

"While you are still young, and inexperienced, I, or shall I say we, have seen the spark in you."

Morgan jerked back in his seat and glanced around in all directions before returning his own gaze to that of Mai's. "Pardon me, for being blunt, because as you say I am still young, and learning, but uhm, should we be discussing such things so openly."

"The spark, you mean, magic, in this town, at this time, if anyone should happen to overhear us and carry tales, they must just think we were discussing the kind of magic that involves smoke and mirrors." Mai shrugged, and as such were not the case, the kind of magic you and I, and others deal with; well, they would not understand anyways.

"Granted," Morgan replied. "So what do you want?"

"Now we get to it," Mai replied a satisfied smile playing about he ruby-painted lips.  
"It seems that I am in need of those who wish to join a select group. It is called the White Council and if you choose to join, I can promise the rewards will be very great. "

"White Council, my instructor has mentioned nothing of this," said Morgan.

:No doubt, your instructor, is a good man, a good wizard, but too, pardon me for saying this, too timid to deal with matters that have been entrusted to members of the White Council."

"What type of matters?" he asked.

"Some are delicate, some are dangerous, some tread the line between both, and the demarcation can be a very, well, shall we say, delicate science, if you catch my drift?" she replied.

"Magic and mundane," he asked.

"In a sense. You do realized that at this stage, I can not say anymore than I already have.  
"Do you accept this?" she asked.

Morgan smiled and leaned back in his chair. He was by turns both cautious and ambitious, and eager to make a name for himself in the world of both the ordinary and the extraordinary, this Mai and her roundabout hints and implications, and the offer to join something as interesting and perhaps even potentially dangerous organization such as the White Council, sounded like an opportunity he could not afford to pass up. "I do."

"I believe," she trailed off as she cocked her to one side as if thinking her over her next choice of words very carefully and much in the manner similar to that of the crane whose image she had worn during the parade. "What is the saying, wait, do not tell me. Oh, yes, I believe this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership."

"A toast, to my lady," replied Morgan quietly but not without a certain amount of satisfaction and a smirk that he discovered that he was hard-pressed to suppress. "Here's to a new beginning for all of us."

"I warn you now, that it will not be easy, and it will take much work and discipline." Mai reached one delicately but deceptively strong hand the nails had been painted as red as a persimmon flower, "And before you grow so large in your estimation, you are not the only with the spark, the energy, nor the talent, because there are others."

"I understand," he replied.

"Do you," she asked as if to herself as much as directed to him.

**Author's Note:**

> based from the television series, only...


End file.
